It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas-5th December
by vivalafirefly
Summary: Prompt: "Christmas caroling. One of them can sing, the other really doesn't. How to tell them?"


Emma couldn't believe that she'd been roped into this. As if it wasn't mortifying enough that her mother had decided that they had to go Christmas carolling, her father had taken this exact moment as the perfect chance to grill Killian. Bloody brilliant.

She was more used to New York and Boston Christmases. Everyone spent loads of money that they didn't have on innumerable decorations and unappreciated presents, and refused to spend time with anyone who wasn't a relative or a friend. Or more often than not, refusing to spend time with their closest relatives and friends as well. It definitely didn't involve sheet music, or a money filled Santa hat, or hand-knitted mittens. These particular mittens were a Snow White special. For someone who looked far too young to be a grandma, Mary definitely ticked off a lot of the stereotypes.

Emma was not feeling comfortable in this uncharted territory of Christmas carolling. There was only one thing keeping her grounded and stopping her from literally running away screaming. That was the solid feel of Henry's mittened hand clasped in hers and the smile of pure joy beaming across his face.

So here she was, about to belt out one of the most archaic carols she had ever had the misfortune of coming across. Before she even had chance to stutter out a hesitant note, she heard Killian's vibrant voice ringing out next to her. She was absolutely amazed to hear the rich tremor to it, the confidence with which he hit each line.

Emma didn't even attempt to hide her surprise as she turned to fix Hook with an unblinking stare. He just widened his grin, sending her a quick wink. Damn. Decent singing voice as well as looks. That wasn't setting the bar high…not at all. No pressure here Emma.

After the revealing of Hook's magical voice, which was pretty sexy actually (not that she'd ever tell him, he was way too cocky as it was), she decided that there was no way she was going to properly sing. She managed to spend the rest of the carol singing mumbling into her sheet, half-reading as many words as she sung. Anytime someone nudged her trying to get her to sing louder she just shrugged them off with a half-serious glare. It didn't help that most of the songs were ancient tunes she'd never heard before in her life.

Despite all the shortcomings of the evening (not least of which was James' continual shaking down of Killian), it seemed to cheer everyone up and enliven the Christmas spirit. By the time they got back to the flat Emma was feeling particularly buzzed. Setting everyone up to make a vat of hot chocolate (she was pretty sure one of the fairies had magiced up a cauldron) she decided that what she needed was a nice long, hot shower.

It wasn't long before the warm water was brushing down her, shaking out the remnants of chilblains and easing any sore muscles. As she allowed herself to relax she soon found a song reverberating through her brain, quickly translating into a low hum. Before she thought about what she was doing a rousing chorus of the Pogues was being belted from her lungs. She no longer cared that her voice was off key and scratchy, it's not like it really mattered anyway. Nobody was listening. There were no other musically gifted carollers to judge her, or neighbours to laugh, so she just let go. Once she'd finished her lyrically patchy rendition she had completed her ablutions. With a sigh she stepped out of the shower and wrapped one of the fluffier towels around herself.

As the heat and the steam escaped the room with the opening of the bathroom door, a round of boisterous laughter took its place. A quick glance around the rather crowded studio flat showed Emma exactly what they were all cackling at. Every single pair of eyes, human or otherwise, was focused on her.

Shit. Emma was a hardened freelance detective. She didn't blush easily, but realising everyone had been listening in to her off-key singing definitely raised a red hue in her cheeks.

She ignored the few friendly shouts telling her that they understood now why she'd refused to sing earlier, opting to go and put some clothes on instead. By the time she'd returned the howls of laughter seemed to have transformed into light guffaws. Emma tried to retain some dignity, curling into the spare seat on the sofa next to Killian, hoping that he at least would have some pity.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Hook's hand reached up, grasping her gently under her chin as he looked her straight in the eyes. "You have many wondrous and amazing qualities, Swan. Enough to have every man in this world and any other fall at your feet. But singing is not one of them!"

The laughter of the rest of the room and her own huff of annoyance drifted away as his lips fixed on Emma's, stealing her breath and any coherent thoughts, embarrassed or otherwise.


End file.
